Everything
by the maids diaries
Summary: A party, a night off, Mrs. Hughes having dreams and a very romantic buttler.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: **_This should have been posted during the Valentine's Day, but did not work. Totally inspired by the song "Everything" Michael Bublé. I hope you enjoy._**  
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**Chapter 1**

_Hot. It was just too hot in the bedroom. The smell of sex filling the air, her sex, his sex, their sex. She was lying in her bed, open arms, open legs, groaning softly nearing her own release. He was on top of her, deep inside of her, nuzzling and kissing the sensitive skin of her neck and she could barely control herself._

_Her skin was flushed, sweating as her hands grabbled the sheets pulling them off of the bed, trying hard to be as silent as she could. The whole thing seems so right, feels so good, almost like a dream come true. There was so much passion between them, and their bodies moved frantically. They finally belong to each other. His thrusts became increasingly deeper and faster and her legs wrapped around his hips. Her eyes shut, her teeth finding her lower lip for a bite and then, very suddenly, she felt it. Her body became tense, her legs started to shake and her nails reached the muscles of his back. The release was so near, growing in her center and started spread all over her body in a strong wave._

"_Charles, I think I'm going..." She murmured breathless._

With a strong shake of her body, Elsie's eyes opened wide and found the ceiling above her. _"I'm going to wake up!"_ She thought puzzled pushing the covers off her sweating body.

The flame of a candle on the bedside table was still burning low near the end. Its little glow faintly shadowed the small room that was her room. Despite the cold outside, her body was hot and sweaty, her nightdress soaked with sweat and her hair disheveled. Running her hands through her hair, she brushed it away from her forehead and breathed deeply. It was not the first time she had her sleep plagued by such dreams, dreams about him. But this time the intensity startled her, the dream was so vivid, almost real, and her body responded as if he had actually been there, touching her, making her body ache in that love madness.

_"Stop it, Elsie! This is not a good idea."_ She told herself exasperated. The cause of it was the anxiet, could only be, it was just an unconscious reflection of all those conversations about romance that everyone had been having throughout that week, both up stairs and down stairs. A war going on out there and everyone in Downton seemed to have forgotten all because of one fool day called Valentine's Day. Yes, she would believe that, she must believe that. Frustrated, she turned in bed, covering her body with the cushions and blew out the candle. Tomorrow would be a long day, a very long one.

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><p>"My dear Mrs. Hughes, I have good news." Lady Grantham smiled kindly sitting on the couch in the library, with her hands in her lap and looking impeccably dressed, as always. "His Lordship finally decided that we're going to attend the ball tonight. Can you tell the staff they're dismissed for the night as soon as we leave? Only God knows how we all need a distraction, get our minds off of war. "<p>

"Of course, Milady. Thank you. I'll tell everyone." She said before leaving the room and heading downstairs. The night could get worse? All free? Ethel uncontrollably silly, Anna and Mrs. Patmore depressed, William excited to go to war, Branson full of impossible ideals, Mr. Lang acting weird and Thomas hanging around again. Not to mention the events that loomed over the family.

If the concern about her duties were not enough, she ended up worrying about the staff and now, as if she had time for it, about a free night for everyone. Going downstairs, her feet lead her through the house automatically, without having to pay close attention to where she was going.

In the kitchen, employees were at the table, waiting for lunch while they talked eagerly about the party that night in the village. Ignoring them altogether, she turned down the hall to stop at Mr. Carson's parlor door. Looking inside, she could see he was concentrating, writing notes in his notebook, and she allowed herself to watch him with affection for a few seconds before knocking on the door frame to draw attention to herself.

It only took one look for her to feel the tension growing and the memory of her vivid dream to come back to her mind. She looked away briefly and licked her lips to settle in the chair across his table, just in front of him.

"Mrs. Hughes." He said, laying the pen down and closing the notebook to turn his attention to the woman before him.

"I was with the Countess, she gave everyone a night off tonight."

"I think the staff will be very satisfied." He seemed distracted for a few seconds, even contemplative, she could say, as he stretched his legs.

"I fear for how satisfied some may be." She sound distracted, saying this more for herself than for him. Her thoughts turned to Ethel, as always. That girl would bring further problems, that was for sure.

"Something worries you? Specifically." Charles looked at her carefully and for her it was impossible not blush at the memories of the dream she was trying at all costs to suppress.

"Nothing that I cannot solve."

"If you need help do not hesitate to ask me." Despite his calm words his eyes studied her and she pretended not to notice. He shifted in his chair again, a little uneasy when he tried to sound casual as he asked: "Do you intend to go to the party tonight?"

"I do not think there is another option but to go. You intend to go too, Mr. Carson?" She finally faced him, studying him as carefully as he studied her. It was difficult to read his features, and the various possible interpretations left her distraught. She wasn't prepared for all the mixed emotions inside her. Usually she locked them inside and ignored them, but since that morning all she could think about was him and that dream.

"Preferably accompanying you, Mrs. Hughes."

A shy smile curled the housekeeper's lips and she felt her cheeks blush violently, before she was able to contain herself. Without any doubt she would accept his invitation, that was not something she needed to think about. If there was anyone she wanted to be with on that fateful night it would be with him, however that was not something that she would speak out loud even to herself.

A knock on the door drew their attention and they both turned to see Anna standing in the doorway.

"Excuse me, Mr. Carson, Mrs. Hughes, lunch is being served now."

"We're coming." He said in his deep voice, lifting himself from the chair with a sigh. He went around the table and stood in front of Mrs. Hughes waiting for her answer.

"As always, Mr. Carson." She said with a small smile in her lips_. __As always._

_**Reviews are always welcome and expected****, please.**  
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	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

After Mr. Carson told the news during lunch the table was overtaken by an uproar and everyone started making plans for that evening. Elsie, on the other hand, was glad to see that Anna could be distracted by Ethel's nonsense and thrilled with the prospect of a little bit of song and dance. She felt briefly that the night would not be so terrible, and after all she would have _him _as company, even if it had no special meaning for him.

Even while listening to the conversation, Charles still gave her curious looks and offered her little smiles. His concern was touching even more for the fact he didn't have the slightest idea what was happening to her. How would he react if she told him? She chewed her food with care not to bite her tongue or choke herself at the thought. Surely he would be shocked, but she would never know. It would only be the secret of her dreams and she would be the one to be tortured by them.

She allowed herself to concentrate on the conversation, keeping her eyes away from the man beside her. The fear of blushing in front of everyone was huge, though she suspected no one would pay attention to her that morning, no one but him.

"Let's go to the pub first, we can have a few drinks and then we'll enjoy the party, all the sweets and dance with the ladies!" Branson announced. "Mr. Carson, you will join us, won't you?"

"We all could go to the pub!" Anna retorted, with an excited smile.

"Women in the pub?" Thomas dismissed.

"Well, and what's wrong with that? As far as I can remember this is a free country." O'Brien's voice sounded sharp as a knife, causing the girls to rise up in support.

"I would accept a good dose of brandy, wouldn't you, Mrs. Hughes?" Mrs. Patmore asked.

Elsie agreed, "I could make good use of a dose, Mrs. Patmore."

"It would be dangerous for the honor of you ladies," Mr. Branson said with a provoking smile, just for fun, to stimulate discussion.

"But we'd all be very well chaperoned by you gentlemen," Anna retorted.

"You're right, Anna. I see no problem if we all make a stop in the pub first. I could use a dose of brandy myself." Charles decreed finally, and the women smiled in satisfaction with the victory.

"_Maybe I will need two large doses of brandy tonight."_ Thought Elsie.

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><p><em>An unusual heat took her body, rising in her center and spreading to the rest of her body quickly. The tight collar of her dress seemed about to suffocate her and only when she felt it being released did she breathe a sigh of relief.<em>

_She leaned back, arching her spine and supporting her small body on Charles's massive chest. Her head lolled to the side as his lips explored her jugular with kisses, resisting the temptation to bite or taste her delicate skin only to hear her moaning low. He had an undeniable power over her body. To not respond to his touch and words was impossible and she felt herself melting slowly in his arms._

_His hands came down calmly, opening each of the buttons carefully, torturing her as his fingers traced the outline of her neck, breasts and belly, until the dress was completely open and ready to slide toward the floor. Charles continued his exploration, allowing himself to run his lips from her neck to her shoulders, making breathing even more difficult for her._

_A shiver ran through her and she quickly turned in Charles's arms to face him. The curve of her breasts was even more pronounced when squeezed in the corset and his gaze delighted in the vision for long seconds before bending over and kissing them._

_"Oh Charles..." Elsie murmured, her voice breathless in anticipation when his hands began to loosen the corset._

"Mrs. Hughes?"

"Charles..." She stammered again, moving languidly in her chair. She turned her head aside and yawned, opening her eyes slowly. Elsie blinked a few times until her eyes become accustomed to the light and then saw him standing at her side. "Mr. Carson!" The tone of shock in her voice rang clear and she swallowed hard.

The air seemed to have vanished suddenly from the pantry, especially when she noticed that one of his hands was still holding her upper arm, causing her to sit upright in her chair, moving away from his touch abruptly.

"I think I fell asleep," she murmured absently, unable to lift her eyes toward him. Had she said something? Issued a sound? The panic grew inside her along with an urgent desire to rush out of the pantry.

"I think so, Mrs. Hughes," Charles looked at her carefully, as shocked as she was or maybe surprised.

After all, how had she slept sitting there? She was not that tired, was she? How long had she slept? She raised her hands to her hair to make sure it was minimally presentable, only to notice through the mirror that he kept his gaze on her. If she do not know him well she would say he was confused and anxious, but that was not the Charles Carson she knew.

"Do you need something, Mr. Carson?" Elsie finally asked feeling even more embarrassed. She stood up and smoothed the front of her dress as she spoke.

"I'm about to ring the gong and thought you would like to be informed," he said looking away.

"Oh, yes, thank you, I'll be going upstairs now then." She gave him a small anxious smile, looking at him quickly and left the pantry.

As she climbed the stairs toward her room and was getting ready for the night, Elsie noticed that it was not only impossible to get him out of her head, worse than that, it was impossible to get him out of her body. If that was not enough to feel guilty about it, there was the smile of Mr. Carson and his invitation to accompany her. Of course it could mean nothing at all, he has always accompanied her to the village when they went there together, walking side by side. Sometimes he offered his arm for her when they were walking alone, but the atmosphere that created the younger maid had created affected her and now she imagined that he had asked her deliberately, wanting to be with her that day in particular.

Elsie allowed herself to imagine they were alone, walking at night side by side, arms hooked, talking without worrying about others and without measuring words, having dinner in the pub and then dancing with no critical eye following them or without becoming the target of a stinging remark.

A sigh escaped her lips. Dreams, dreams of a foolish girl; totally inappropriate for a grown woman. She needed to, before anything else, relax, or at least try.

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><p><em><strong> Thank you for all your lovely reviews and alerts! I hope you like this one and would love to know what you're thinking!<strong>_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_"She was calling my name."_ The thought kept repeating in his head like an eternal mantra, from the moment he found himself alone in the pantry until the moment that they met again in the corridor b the back door.

Elsie had been strange for the last few days, distracted, slightly frightened, he could tell, but he never felt her move away as urgently as she had that afternoon.

She had said his name among sighs. Sighs. She was probably dreaming, but about him? Thoughts and more thoughts overlapped in a constant chatter inside his head. The unconscious was treacherous, he knew it very well. Dreams are dreams, not necessarily consistent with our feelings, but she had said his name and it was impossible not to feel at least curious about it.

Likewise, he could not help thinking it served as an incentive for his plans, at least in a way. That night would be theirs alone, regardless of the company of others. He would take her to dance, and they would talk quietly among glasses of brandy and pieces of candy and no one would spoil their night off. He would be with her that night, not any other man, not Joe Burns, him, even if just as friends.

Elsie Hughes would be with him and that as all that mattered. They would walk arm in arm like a real married couple and happily laugh of someone or something and spend a pleasant time _together_.

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><p>Charles helped her with her coat, and she could not prevent a smile. Part of her shock at being awoken by him had finally dissipated, but in the course of minutes the anxiety grew inside her, causing her to flutter like a teenager. He was just being gracious as always; after all they were friends, nothing more. She tried to keep her mind clear and objective. How many times had they gone together to the village? There was nothing new about it, but this night was a different night; Valentine's night.<p>

The snow had melted in the last two weeks, but the cold still punished. A cold breeze enveloped them all, leaving their faces slightly stained but nobody seemed to care; not this night. They walked in pairs and trios engrossed in their conversations.

Branson and Anna walked ahead in a heated discussion about appropriate female behavior. The two drew the laughter of William and Daisy, who whenever they exchanged a few words were interrupted by Mrs. Patmore. Ethel talked with Thomas right behind them, full of smiles for the young officer. Elsie wished silently that Ethel keep her attention on him tonight. Right in front of Charles and her, Lang and O'Brien were walking side by side. Their silent understanding was visible and palpable to her, especially when they exchanged brief glances, which made her compare them with Charles and herself.

If she could turn back time, at least a little, would she have done anything differently? Maybe, maybe not.

Charles's hand touched her lower back and caught her attention, causing a shiver to run down through her spine immediately. Her body reacted to his touch so absurdly easily that it was impossible to disguise.

"Are you cold, Mrs. Hughes?"

"No, Mr. Carson."

The silence fell between them again. The desperate desire to take him by the arm and get closer to him grew on her but the presence of others prevented her. They needed to maintain their positions as responsible and respectable figures, after all.

In the same way that his hand found her lower back, it found its way down, and again they only walked side by side. This night the silence between them was filled with mystery, plans, hopes and uncertainties. Elsie could see him biting his lip from the corner of her eyes. Her body filled with tension and made her heart pound in her chest. She would give all her pennies to know his thoughts.

* * *

><p>The pub was busy. People came and went among the tables, glasses were clinked between "cheers" and laughter was heard over the music. Someone played the piano and a rhythm filled the cheerful environment. Some couples dined at tables for two with candles in the center of the tables, exchanging glances full of meaning and holding hands.<p>

For Elsie it was a forlorn hope, for Charles it was a dream to be realized. The men went to the counter, the women to a table. On the way they got separated after exchanging a look. Getting separated was not in their plans, much less spending the night in the company of others. Elsie was comforted by the fact that this was a temporary situation, and soon they were going to go to the square and perhaps they could stay together while the younger people danced. _"And if he asked someone to dance?"_

No, he would not ask another woman to dance, would he? After offering to accompany her that night? Of course not, Charles was a gentleman.

"Is something wrong, Mrs. Hughes?" Anna's soft voice brought her back from her thoughts and she shook her head giving a brief and gentle smile.

"No, my dear."

"Let's have our brandies!" interrupted Beryl with a loud voice, sitting right next to Elsie.

One, two, three glasses of brandy later and she finally felt her body relax, leaning back in her chair a little more comfortably and allowing herself to openly laugh at Ethel's stories punctuated by the sharp commentary of O'Brien. In the last half hour the group of men had increased in size and she looked at them one by one until identifing Dr. Clarkson and Mr. Molesley with the Downton men. They seemed to be enjoying themselves, especially the younger ones. She observed them from behind her glass for a few moments. The doctor said something that looked a lot like _"Mrs. Hughes"_ tearing a cross response from Charles. Branson said something and everyone, except Charles, burst into laughter.

The brandy must had have done something to her senses, confusing them or making them slower, after all why would they be talking about her? And_ why _would Charles seem to care so much about it? A twinge of hope warmed her ego and she looked back at the table, where the women chatted loudly. Mrs. Patmore with flushed cheeks and O'Brien had became talkative after all the booze.

"We were still hidden on the edge of the wall trying to spy what was happening and then ... BOOM!" Sarah's hand fell heavily on the table making the glasses tremble and startling Elsie.

"Why are you so distracted, my dear Mrs. Hughes?" Branson had stopped between Elsie's and Anna's chairs. A smile lit up the young man's face, who winked at O'Brien, eliciting laughter from the others. "We're going to the fair, I think a little sugar would be good for you ladies. Do you want to come along with us?"

A scraping of chairs and stools occurred then, while they put on their coats and almost all moved from one side to the other. Together they formed a pretty large group. Elsie followed Anna and Ethel to the counter to pay for their drinks, but once she reached out to deliver the coins to the bartender, Charles's hand stopped her, holding her wrist with a soft touch.

"I've paid your drinks along with mine, Mrs. Hughes."

At that moment she realized how she loved the way he said her name, how she loved his voice. She tried to concentrate on something else that was not Charles, his voice, his eyes, his touch, failing on that immensely. It was all the booze's fault, she must believe that, because she was a very distingushed lady and should not act like a silly girl in love.

"You should not have done that, Mr. Carson."

"It was nothing; you're in my company tonight. The least I could do is pay for you a drink." A smile curved his lips, large and cheerful, completely different from all the smiles that she had seen on his lips. It was almost sensual. _"What is happening to you, Elsie Hughes?" _Her heart lurched and she felt her hands begin to sweat inside the gloves. There was something wrong with him and with her, something that had not been present before or at least not visible. Charles approached her close enough to whisper in her ear: "Come with me."

His hand slid quietly from her wrist to her elbow, and she stared at him for a few seconds. Weren't they risking too much and about to make fools of themselves in front of others? Elsie threw a quick look around them; no one seemed to pay attention to them, then she let herself be guided around a few tables straight out of the bar.

After four doses of brandy the breeze did not seem quite so cold, or maybe it was just the heat inside her chest caused by this man, especially when his hand slid again on her arm, finding her small hand. Their fingers intertwined as they walked briskly toward the fair, and she did not dare look at him fearing what she would find.

The Scottish folk song filled her ears. Many couples danced at a lively pace and the last thing she expected was Charles pulling her to dance without even a word.

"No! I do not remember; do not even think I can..." Elsie tried to protest, but her face instead of showing her opposition to the situation, had a silly grin, and she laughed. The notes of the Scottish bagpipes brought the girl back but she still said between laughter "This is not appropriate for us, Mr. Carson… Charles!"

No protest prevented him from giving a sly smile and bringing her body closer to his. The world was turning around; the light, the people, and even Charles were but a momentary blur. She allowed herself to be Elizabeth, Elsie, not Mrs. Hughes, not the head housemaid, not the housekeeper, but the girl who once lived on a farm, who ran through the incredibly green meadows in Argyll with her sister, who liked to swim in the river when nobody was around. A girl full of dreams that had had danced on carefree party nights with friends and occasionally even with Joe Burns.

Her head leaned back, her eyes closed and she, Elizabeth, Elsie, only felt. She felt the loud music fill her chest. She felt the breeze touching her face. She felt Charles's arms hold her firmly against him. She felt her chest pressed to him and her feet, following the hectic pace of turns and leaps, as if she had never spent a week without dancing.

When the initial excitement start to dissipate, Elsie opened her eyes and looked at Charles, letting herself concentrate on him. The first song was followed by a second, further stirred, and a third also fast-paced, and only at the fourth song did the rate start to decrease.

She felt herself sinking into Charles's arms as the pace slowed. Beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and a lock of hair swung loose on his forehead, beautifully charming. She felt hot herself and panting for breath, but not enough to ignore that move, allowing herself to touch the lock of hair gently with the fingertips of her left hand.

He touched her gently, as if she were the most fragile and delicate object in the world.  
>The two faced each other closely, so close that it caused her to lose her breath and her heart to jump a beat. Her feet moved, following him while she felt herself being dragged to the depths of his eyes by his deep and intoxicating look. A shiver ran through her body involuntarily. The reality was even better than the dream, definitely. Charles had a large and welcoming body, with caring and accurate movements despite his size. Elsie felt like a fragile painting in a beautiful frame.<p>

"Are you cold?"

"No."

"You're shivering."

"_I was shivering?"_ She had not even noticed.

"But not because of cold."_ I'm shivering because of you. _The thought made her bite her lower lip; words that she would never have the courage to say aloud. Inappropriate, they were very inappropriate.

For a moment everything seemed to stop. The music was no longer audible, the others were just a blur of color around her and the feeling of drowsiness caused by drinking had dissipated. Everything was focused on his eyes_. "The eyes are the windows to the soul."_ And that night the windows were open, shouting to each other the same message. She felt overwhelmed, with a dry throat and teary eyes suddenly. She looked down with a small smile, just to feel his lips kissing her forehead, and treading a path of slow kisses from her left temple, down her cheek, and stopping near her mouth.

At every touch she felt more dredged, more steeped in his charm. It was so sweet and unreal, it could only be another dream, and she let herself go. She allowed her body to get closer to his than ever; her eyes shut and her head tilted to the side, giving him free access to the sensitive skin of her neck. The hand on her back petted her gently causing sparks to emerge from that point to spread throughout her body slowly, causing her skin to tingle.

"I'm glad you accepted my company tonight, Mrs. Hughes." His voice sounded hoarse and low, so close to her ear that she could feel his lips touch it softly.

"You company is always welcome, Mr. Carson," Elsie replied with the little voice she could manage.

How much time had passed she could not have guessed, but when she lifted her head she found his eyes again, even closer. She felt herself plunging into his eyes, falling in free fall toward him, oblivious to everything and everyone.

She noticed how close they were when their foreheads touched and their noses brushed against each other gently. It was a dream, she knew at that moment. Charles Carson would never let himself go for his feelings, not in front of everyone, not like that, never. She swallowed hard preparing to wake up when his warm breath brushed her lips softly. They were so close, a few millimeters away from their first kiss.

"Mr. Carson! Mrs. Hughes! We were looking for you! "Almost.

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><p><em><strong>Thank you for all your lovely reviews and alerts! Thank you again, Onesimus for all your help!<strong>_

_**I would love to know what you're thinking!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**N/A**: Maybe you get a little shocked with this, in a funny way (at least I hope). Sorry if it won't be what you expected.

**Chapter 4**

Having Mr. Branson and Ethel calling for them was even worse than waking up and finding that it had all been another dream plagued by that man. Unlike the slow and sensuous way that their bodies had been enmeshed in the last song, they parted abruptly. And she felt her body begin to cool as she looked at the youngsters, heartbroken by the sudden separation. Even worse than that was the expression of amazement on their faces; barely contained.

"We are going back to Downton, Mrs. Patmore and Miss O'Brien had drunk a little beyond the account and it's getting late, will you be coming with us?" the driver asked with a cautious tone of voice.

Elsie looked at the clock in the church tower, it was much later than she had imagined. Had they spent so much time together? Had they been so distracted? She felt surprised and noticed that Charles's face scowled. Was he so moody because the others had overdone the booze or by the suddenly interference in that moment? She didn't need to know.

"Let's go." Charles snarled annoyed.

Branson and Ethel turned on their heels and walked away. Charles's features had softened when he turned back to her, looking more sad than anything else. Elsie tried to give him a little smile, but her eyes shined with the frustration she felt at that moment. Almost twenty years of waiting and when they finally allowed themselves to get close to each other someone interrupted. She suppressed a sigh with the desire to touch him and stroke his arm and to tell him that they might have time for each other later, in the privacy of his pantry or her parlor, but what if he felt relieved after all? What if he regretted that moment?

They followed the youngsters to one of the square's benches without saying a word. Anna and Thomas kept Miss O'Brien sitting discreetly while Mr. Lang was standing in front of them, with a wry half-smile on his lips. William and Daisy buttressed Mrs. Patmore out of the pub and as they approached, Elsie overheard Ethel's comment for the others; unable to contain herself.

"I think we interrupted something, they were dancing."

"It's about time!" Sarah's voice sounded louder than necessary; a broad smile danced on her lips and her eyes shone. She was happily drunk.

"Everybody's ready?" Charles sounded even more annoyed, casting a look of complete disapproval.

All of the others turned to them suddenly, even O'Brien seemed surprised.

"You've lost your sense of discretion," Thomas sneered at Sarah and Ethel with a crooked smile.

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><p>The walk back at Downton was comically tragic and she found herself torn between shame and the urgent desire to laugh that was growing in her chest. Few seemed completely sober as they walked by the empty road. William and Branson sang a song, while Thomas followed them, turning Ethel in his arms, with wildly inaccurate dance steps, eliciting laughter from the youngsters. Anna and Daisy walked with a sleepy Mrs. Patmore making sure she kept walking. They seemed to want to wake up the whole village and she would not be surprised if they could do so with just a little more effort.<p>

Charles and Elsie walked side by side, a little further away from them, still enveloped in their stony silence.

"They have the lyric wrong," Charles commented quietly, casting her a wary look. He seemed to be in an internal conflict, totally betrayed by his face.

Elsie shrugged, looking at her hands.

"And is there something about them that is right tonight?"

Charles laughed softly, sinking his hands in his pockets even more.

She felt foolish and embarrassed again, as if she had been the one who caused that moment. What if Branson and Ethel had arrived a few seconds later? Would they have seen them kissing? Would they actually shared a kiss? If that had happened the family would soon learn about it and the next morning they would be packing. It would be shameful.

Elsie could not let that happen, for him to lose the most precious thing he had for a foolish slip would not be right; Charles did not deserve that shame, not because of her. If it depended on her will, Charles Carson would be Downton's butler until he died and she would be the housekeeper at his side, always by his side.

For a moment they just observed Miss O'Brien and Mr. Lang, who walked together. Their arms had found each one's waists and Sarah slightly shaky and very lively, had propped her head on the valet's shoulder. Whatever they were talking about Elsie and Charles could not hear, but Mr. Lang laughed openly for the first time since he had arrived in Downton.

It was impossible not to feel a twinge of envy. If she were brave enough, if she had drunk enough, or if she could pretend to be drunk, perhaps, she would be returning with her body glued to Charles's, with their arms wrapped around each other while talking intimacies. But that was certainly not acceptable behavior for a housekeeper, for her. Sarah O'Brien could handle it the next day, next morning she would silence any comment with just a look and would move on with her head up and without giving a damn about the others' thoughts. She did not. Elsie commanded respect because she had self-respect and for a second she wished to be younger and less responsible.

"The brandy was good for him," she remarked suddenly, still caught in her own thoughts.

"The brandy was good for everyone, I would say, my dear Mrs. Hughes." He had a shy smile on his lips. Any booze that they had consumed that night, and which probably had led them to the dance, was gone without a trace. "I think Miss O'Brien will give us some trouble tonight."

"I hope that a cold bath is enough to calm her down, Mr. Carson." There was a slight tinge of mockery in her voice.

"I suggest you make sure that the corridor's door is securely locked tonight."

Despite the light tone of the conversation, it did not flow easily. Elsie knew. Charles knew. Sooner or later they would have to talk about that night.

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><p>When she entered in the silence of her bedroom Elsie felt the little hope that he would restrain her and drag her to his pantry before they went to their rooms dissipate. The corridor was still noisy, Anna and Ethel had taken charge of caring for O'Brien and she was glad. She took the pins out of her hat to remove it. She took her clothes of, storing them carefully in the closet, from where she took a nightgown, putting it on.<p>

All she wanted to do was hide under the covers and sleep, preferably without any dreams involving Charles, little or no clothing, and inappropriate activities between them. Just a peaceful night of sleep.

She sighed, looking in the mirror. The years were passing quickly, she had arrived at Downton so young, and now had white hair carefully concealed throughout her hair. She was about to loosen her hair when the noise in the bathroom next door came into her ears; O'Brien's voice were suddenly high, singing at a lively pace:_ "SINNE FIANNA FÁIL ATÁ FÉ GHEALL AG ÉIRINN, BUION DÁR SLUA THAR TOINN DO RÁINIG CHUGAINN, FÉMHÓID BHEITH SAOR, SEANTÍR ÁR SINSIR FEAST.."_

"STOP IT!" Anna's voice sounded high and shrill, followed by sounds of water splashing all around in the bathroom.

"LET GO OF ME!" snarled O'Brien and she could hear Ethel's loud laughter. _"NÍ FHAFGAT FÉ'N TIORÁN NÁ FÉ'N TRÁIL ANOCHT A THÊAM AS BHEARNA BHAOIL, LE GEAN AR GHAEIL CHUN BÁIS NÓ SAOIL, LE GUNA SCREACH FÉ LÁMHACH NA BPILÉAR..."_

Elsie closed her eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, trying to stay calm. She listened for a moment in the hope that Anna could keep the situation in control, but O'Brien continued singing even louder. She opened her bedroom door, Daisy had her door open, staring at the bathroom door and Charles stood at the corridor's door, with Thomas and William behind him, wearing only his undershirt and holding his pants. He would have run out of his bedroom to see what was happening. Elsie tried to ignore his hands, his arms and everything else and this time she noticed it was infinitely easier.

"She is singing the anthem of Ireland?" The shock was evident in his face and voice, but she barely spared him a look.

"In Irish." She said with poor humor and earnestness at the arduous task awaiting her. "I'll fix this."

"SEO LIBH, CANAÍDH AMHRÁN NA BHFIANN."

She opened the bathroom's door and took a few seconds to absorb the whole scene. O'Brien was sitting in the bathtub still wearing her shifte with a dry face. Anna was standing beside her with her hands on the edge of the bathtub, slightly disheveled and wet, as if they had fought with each other for a few seconds while Ethel was standing by holding O'Brien's dress in her arms and laughing of them.

"What is happening here?"

Sarah O'Brien blinked a few times, facing the housekeeper holding the soap in her hands. She didn't look scared, far from it, she arched her eyebrows and gave the impression of being happily surprised, until she absentmindedly tightened her grip on the soap, which flew to the ground. Ethel burst into a new laughter while Sarah started to yell.

"THE SOOOOAAAP! SOMEONE CATCH THE SOOOOOAPP! I DO NOT LEAVE HERE IF YOU DO NOT CATCH THE SOAP."

"ENOUGH ALREADY!"

Just as one began to scream and the other to laugh, they stopped and stood still in silence. Anna took the soap from the floor and Elsie went to the tub while she rolled the sleeves of the nightgown, then pull the shift over Sarah's head with her lips closed in a crooked line.

"Ethel, go down and bring something to dry all this water. Anna, please pass me that bucket." They obeyed her commands without questioning and Sarah stood quiet, obedient as a lamb. Occasionally she spit a little water or coughed, when water came in through her mouth or her nose while Mrs. Hughes was throwing it at her head, soaking her long hair and gradually calming her down.

When would this night finally end? She thought bitterly. It had started with a little hope, become a dream and turned it into a nightmare in the matter of a few hours.

Ten minutes later, a still shaky O'Brien. with popped eyes and wrapped in a towel, came out through the bathroom's door guided by Elsie towards her bedroom while Anna and Ethel dried water from the bathroom floor so that no one would get hurt slipping on it.

"Mrs. Hughes, let me tell you something." Sarah said with a voice still slightly curled and her accent even more pronounced when Elsie struggled to push her back to the room safely.

"Come on, get in." Her little patience was gone after all the trouble with O'Brien. It was lucky they had not slipped and broken their necks in the middle of all the water she threw out of the bathtub like a restless and spoiled child.

Heavens, Elsie made a mental note to never allow her within a meter of any booze. She wondered seriously if all the employees were not awake still after all the fuss. She closed the door and put O'Brien on the bed, drying her hair with the towel she had held on her arm.

"You don't have to do that." O'Brien protested after sinking onto the bed, swaying languidly from side to side as Elsie ran the towel over her hair. "You don't need take care of me, I could have done that by myself you know?"

"I have no doubt." she joked as she finished what she was doing, removing all excess water from Sarah's long hair.

"Listen, I know you don't like me and the feeling is mutual, but I want to tell you something." Sarah threw the towel to the side as she spoke and fought with her nightgown for a few moments, trying to find the sleeves, just managing to stay upright while she waved her arms wildly.

A moody laugh escaped from Elsie's nose as she helped her get dressed properly.

"Then tell me, Miss O'Brien, so I can finally go to sleep."

"Mr. Carson ..." She began staring with at her with wide eyes, almost gray at that time of night. "He likes you."

"Miss O'Brien ..." Elsie warned her with a look, placing the towels in the holder by the window to dry overnight.

"And you like him." Sara continued to ignore her completely while she focused on fighting a war with the blankets.

It was clear that part of the drink's effect had worn off, but Sarah's reactions were far from what they were normally. She moved with uncertainty and soon became frustrated, picking her legs up to the bed and sitting down on her knees.

"You crossed the line tonight, O'Brien, and I think ..." Elsie did not alter her voice, her strength suddenly gave out and the last thing she wanted was to hear Sarah O'Brien talk about _him_.

"LISTEN TO ME!" The tone of her voice suddenly rose and she took Elsie's by her wrists, causing her to sit on the bed beside her. "Then you can say whatever you want because I'll probably sleep and I will not hear anything, much less remember it tomorrow morning, so let me talk and listen."

Sarah hesitated, her body swaying slightly back and forth while staring and Elsie feared she would fall off the bed. If she heard her out maybe next day they could pretend nothing had happened. It would be quick and painless, right?

"I'm no fool, you know, not that it interests me, but I always noticed the way you walk next to each other, the way you talk…" Sarah went on talking, not noticing that Elsie was still pondering whether or not to listen. "You two look like two damn owls flying around each other, sitting on the same damn branch. You're lucky and are being silly. Mr. Carson is a good man and he likes you, what are you waiting for?" She gave a broad smile, as if the image of them together was something cute in her drunken state, but soon her features changed, becoming sad and dark and she sounded distracted, stuck in her thoughts. "You may be old and you may feel lonely, I feel that way though I'm not so old yet, but you cannot forget that you aren't unloved, and part of me envies that and I don't you want to waste this chance."

"Miss O'Brien..." This was totally unexpected. Elsie patted the sheets, avoiding at all costs looking at the woman before her.

"You like each other and should do something about it, that's all." She concluded falling down on the pillows and stretching out in bed.

"Mr. Lang seems to like you," Elsie said after some time while she tried to assimilate everything she heard, but when she looked at O'Brien she saw that she was asleep. She pulled the blankets around her carefully, turned off the lamp and left the room closing the door quietly.

Now she had even more to think about.

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><p><strong>Reviews are VERY welcomed at this point! ;D<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**N/A: Thank you for all reviews and alerts, you don't have idea how I appreciate every single one!:D**

**Chapter 5**

He had hoped that this night would have a different end, whatever it was, good or bad, but not involving two drunken employees and O'Brien singing the national anthem of Ireland loudly in the bathroom preventing everyone from sleeping. He had hoped to have a pleasant evening with Elsie; maybe figure out what was making her anxious and perhaps, with luck, find out more about his possible involvement in her dream that afternoon.

How could a night so thoroughly planned, so eagerly awaited end that way? Perhaps the feeling of frustration that he had was some kind of divine punishment to teach him that being cautious was not always the best way out, that waiting too long could end up being eternal. God or fate had prevented him from acting. What did he think? That after years of trying to be a respectable man, butler of Downton, he would be allowed to be Charlie for one night? That after being so careful with his feelings and with her he could just get carried away by emotions and do whatever he wanted without thinking?

No, that was impossible. He must act according to what he was now, not what he was in the past.

It was obvious that acting like Charlie would not work, not when the matter was Elsie Hughes. His intention was not to only satisfy his curiosity of how soft her lips were or how they would taste. He did not just want to know if their bodies would fit perfectly together or if her eyes would speak a thousand words in a single moment. He wanted her completely, forever. There was no compromising, he would have all or nothing, something between was not enough, never would be. So why should he think that being carried away by an impulse would solve the situation?

Certainly, now she loathed him; she thought of him as the worst of men on Earth. Elsie barely looked at him a few minutes ago in the corridor; as if after consideration she had come to the conclusion that he was not worthy enough for her, for her to claim.

The singing in the bathroom had stopped, but he still heard screaming from O'Brein. Something related to the soap? He wondered how her mood would be in the next morning. He put on his robe over his pajamas and went to the kitchen, hearing Elsie's voice louder than all the screaming, and finally silence prevailed in the house. Ethel passed him twice quickly, not even noticing his presence on the edge of the stove while the kettle boiled.

How ridiculous had he made himself that night? First drinking, then paying for her drink and dragging her to dance, like a lackey beginner and flirtatious… The truth was that she seemed happy as they danced. Her face had acquired a new vigor and at some point between one spin and another he had the impression that they were back in time and he was admiring Elizabeth in his arms.

_"Nobody really calls me Elizabeth."_

_"And what do they call you?"_

_"Elsie." _

Elsie Hughes. He smiled at the thought when he put the cup to his lips.

Having her in his arms was the problem. How could he have her so close and not get carried away thinking that that was the best way to solve their problems? He should have resisted, waited, waited for a more opportune time. If he had had patience, he would finally kiss her.

Come back to Downton at her side without being able to touch her was not easy and he had a little hope, at least. Remembering the ease with which Miss O'Brien and Mr. Lang had walked in each others' embrace hurt him and then he focused on pouring another cup of tea. A step at a time, that's the way it should be.

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><p>Finally everything was calm. She sat in front of a small dresser and pulled out the hair pins one by one, until the cascade of brown curls was falling free down her shoulders and back. Elsie leaned her elbows on the wood and hid her face in her hands.<p>

How had they reached that point? The dreams that earlier had seemed a serious problem, especially when she was before him and feared showing anything, now seemed distant and insignificant.

With her eyes closed she could feel the ghost of the impression that his fingers had left on her waist and back; she could feel the light stroking of his lips on hers forehead; the way their noses touched. She could feel under her fingers the texture of his skin and his hair.

Charles certainly had already fallen asleep. Had those thoughts occurred him? Would he have relived that night in his thoughts before bed? No; he would be relieved not to have done something stupid in front of the whole village and the other employees, that made more sense.

She was determined to forget all her feelings about that night; but would do that the next day. At that moment, she wanted to fall asleep with the feeling of freedom she had felt spinning in his arms, the love she had glimpsed in his eyes, his sweet words and gestures.

"_He likes you_." O'Brien's words zoomed in her ears. Even drunk she seemed so serious at that moment, so bitter and unhappy with her reality.

She remembered O'Brien's facial expression and the way she laughed with Lang on the way back while she settled into bed, sitting with her back against the headboard as she pulled the covers over her. They certainly interacted well and maybe with time... A soft knock interrupted her thoughts and she let out a sigh.

"Come in."

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><p>Her face was illuminated by a half smile when their eyes met; and Charles was encouraged to close the door behind him. Of course Elsie did not expect to see him, not again that night, but having him there was a good surprise, even though she was tired.<p>

Beneath the robe he wore his undershirt and pajama trousers, a fact that she tried in every way to ignore, but the shadow of the memory of how robust and physically attractive he was wearing only those piece of clothes were imprinted in her memory, even though the moment she had seen him that way she had not given any reaction. Could she simply put a stone on her feelings and move on after putting down her shield? That seemed unlikely, and she felt amazingly and desperately fragile.

"I thought a cup of tea would do you good before bed, you seemed little nervous." He held out the cup resting on the saucer and looked around the room, trying to figure out if he should leave or stay a bit longer. Truth was he needed to stay a bit longer, he needed to know tonight.

"Thank you, I was really in need, but I had no strength to go downstairs and prepare myself a cup." With a little smile, Elsie gathered her legs under her body, making room for him to settle down. She brought the cup to her lips and sipped the refreshing drink.

Charles still uncertain, had the impression she wanted him there so he sat on the bed, keeping a respectable distance between them.

"Miss O'Brien calmed down?"

"She just fell asleep while we were talking," she answered, remembering the subject, _him_, "she seemed sad after the euphoria passed away."

"Well, that's normal, I suppose." He shrugged, watching her for a moment.

"Not this kind of sadness, she seemed really sad."

"O'Brien opened her heart to you?" Charles dismissed.

"Sounds strange, I know, Mr. Carson."

They laughed briefly and silence fell in the small room. Elsie drank the tea, keeping busy trying to avoid asking the question that now pounded in her head. If he had regretted that night he would not be there, would he?

Charles clasped his hands, intertwining his fingers while his head and back slumped forward in a position of fatigue; or failure, as he thought at that time. At least she did not seem upset with him.

"Mrs. Hughes..."

"Mr. Carson..."

They started at the same time and stared.

"Yes?" Elsie bit her lower lip as he watched in a completely unconscious gesture and put the empty cup on the nightstand beside her small bed.

"I..." he began, sighing and falling silent again. "It's late, we need to rest, we have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."

"You ...?" She insisted, leaning her body slightly forward, towards him.

She would not let him escape so easily. He should have known. He scratched his neck in an anxious gesture and turned to her, speaking without looking at her.

"I just wanted to say that I hope you were not offended by my actions tonight. My intention was not to put you in a ridiculous and complicated situation before the other employees that somehow could hurt your character, Mrs. Hughes. I hold you in the highest esteem and would never do that."

Elsie nodded slowly, giving him a small smile. He was apologizing. It would be best to put a hold on her own feelings after all, she thought.

"Don't worry; I know you would never disrespect me. We were both immersed in the charm of the moment, but... it passed." She tried to fake a smile, to show that she understood what he was trying to tell her, but all she did was give him a look that was a mixture of disappointment and irony.

"Did it pass?"

"It didn't?" she retorted cautiously, pulling air into her lungs with force though her open mouth, just to hold it that way waiting for the answer.

Charles looked away and stared at the carefully arranged sheet, giving a brief smile as he took courage. This would be a chance he was unwilling to lose so he said, "Not on my part, Mrs. Hughes. The moment may not have been the most opportune, but my intention remains the same."

Elsie stayed still for some moments, trying to absorb his words before touching his hand, intertwining their fingers as she moved closer to him carefully. Charles was looking at her.

"Then I must say that this is an opportune time, Mr. Carson."

His hand sank into her hair, stroking it gently as he leaned forward. Elsie felt her heart racing and her breath fail while butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

"Close your eyes," Charles whispered in her ear, rubbing his lips gently on her ear lobe.

She had never obeyed with such great satisfaction. She felt the closeness of their bodies gradually increase as he slowly kissed her forehead, temple and cheek, recreating the moment lost that night. This time, when their noses met, and she felt his warm breath touching her lips, there were no doubts or uncertainties.

He closed the distance between them and his lips brushed hers for the very first time, so shy and delicate, and yet full of curiosity. It did not take long for their lips to intertwine gently and she felt his tongue demanding entry. When a moan escaped her, she knew regardless of what happened she could never go back. Sarah O'Brien was right; they loved each other and should do something about it.

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><p><strong>One more to go.<strong>

**Reviews are welcomed.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Despite the certainty that she had had that when she sat at the table next to Charles the next morning that it would be at least a little embarrassing after the night before, Elsie was not surprised by the normality of the situation when they wished good morning to each other.

Around her, everyone ate slowly, still drowsy enough to be amazed when the bells began to ring. Soon another day of work would begin. Between bites of toast and sips of tea her eyes met Charles's eyes and they shared for a moment the intimacy of a small, almost imperceptible smile, until they were again interrupted by the sound of firm and rhythmic steps. Miss O'Brien took her place at the table with face closed and without saying a word.

"How is your head today, Miss O'Brien?" Mr. Branson asked with a mocking smile on his lips, just to get a sideways glance and a sharp reply in response.

"I'm not in the mood right now." Her voice sounded strangely hoarsely.

When the first bells began to ring, there was a scraping of chairs and the servants begin to race from one side to the other. But amid the rush, Elsie watched as Mr. Lang put two aspirin on the table next to Sarah's cup, receiving a nod in response. Elsie was right, the emotionally fragile valet had grown fond of the elusive and ironic maid.

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><p>That night, after a day even more tiring than normal, they allowed themselves to spend some time alone. Dinner had passed some time ago and the family retired relatively early, allowing the servants to do the same.<p>

In her parlor, Elsie was waiting for him as usual. Charles Carson would check each of the windows and doors, turn off the lights and collect all candles left behind. Then he would come back downstairs to knock on her door and wish her goodnight. Tonight, she hoped that he wouldn't just wish her a goodnight from the doorstep, but stay there with her even if for only a short time.

She closed her eyes for a moment, standing by the window. The night was dark, there was no moon shining in the sky outside, only the cold darkness, but she didn't felt lonely or insecure. The mere recollection of the night before warmed her from the inside out; Elsie wrapped her own arms around her body in a quiet celebration, gratifying herself. A mixture of satisfaction and concern still occupied the bottom of her stomach, but her decision was made, for good or for bad and she had no real intention of changing it.

Someone had ventured to the piano, playing a few notes slowly, some slightly off key, repeating them again and again and she began to keep pace with her eyes closed as she remembered the feeling of Charles' arms around her, of his hands on her hair, of how tenderly their lips touched.

"Where are your thoughts tonight, Mrs. Hughes?"

Charles was standing beside her when she opened her eyes, holding his arms behind his back, grasping one of his wrists. His eyes were fixed on the darkness outside; his back straight. She admired his imposing figure reflected in the window. _My Charles_, she thought and turned to him with a small smile on her lips. Her face flushed as she looked down for a moment, feeling like one of the youngest and most inexperienced maids "I hope I do not seem too foolish, but I cannot stop thinking about last night, Mr. Carson."

"Then in that case, my dear Mrs. Hughes, both of us are fools." Charles had turned his face to look at her, tilting his head slightly as he gave her a shy smile. At that moment he knew, she knew; they had come to a decision, the same decision. And so any shred of doubt and insecurity that the two still had dissipated completely.

Their hands met, their fingers entwined and a sigh escaped Elsie's lips. She was still looking down when their bodies stopped mere inches apart. Everything was slow and delicate, all finding its place, coming together, bit by bit.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" she asked him before she could stop the question escaping her lips.

Charles pondered for a moment, tracing the delicate lines of her face with his fingertips; her eyebrows, her nose, her chin, her jaw and he followed the jugular down smoothly until he reached her shoulder and finally put an arm around her, bringing her close to his chest. Elsie was easily distracted when he touched her, he noticed. And while she kept her eyes closed, her body swayed from one side to the other subtly.

"Maybe I can wait another twenty years or so, until we finally retire, but only if that is what you really want Elsie"

"No," she answered simply, snuggling against him. Her free hand rested on Charles's chest and she breathed deeply, leaning her head to rest near her hand, hearing his heart beating hard, slightly faster than she expected.

Charles kissed the top of her head, resting his head on top of hers while their bodies warmed up together. They stayed like that for a few seconds while his thumb stroked the back of her hand, until he murmured near her ear, "There is so much I would like to say to you but I don't know how to begin."

"You don't need to say anything, Charles, not now," she murmured in response, looking up at him. "Just hold me tonight."

He held her tight against his chest, holding her just as she had requested and how he had been dreaming of being able to do for very long. Charles began to hum a melody similar to the one being poorly played in the kitchen. His feet moved slightly at first, causing her to take slow steps from side to side as they swayed smoothly.

"Who is playing?" Elsie asked suddenly.

"Mr. Lang is trying to teach Miss O'Brien." There was a mixture of mockery and disapproval in Charles's voice that Elsie noticed.

"Oh .." She tried to keep her face impassive, but her eyes betrayed her and noticing the watchful eye of Charles on her, she laughed.

"You know something," That was not a question, but a certainty. Of course she knew something, but this time she did not think she should share with him.

"I don't know what you're talking about, dear," Elsie pretended ignorance, laughing even more.

"Oh, no?" His tone was defiant. Charles leaned his face dangerously near hers. "Well..." When their noses touched, and she held her breath in anticipation of what was to come he stopped, "I think something is going on with Miss O'Brien and you know what it is."

"Nothing that should give us too much concern. I don't think Mr. Lang dares to do what you are doing now." She bit her lower lip briefly.

"Make no mistake about it. A man interested in a woman is capable of many things. "

"Just as you are doing now?"

"Much more than that, I'd say."

"Even to forget his dignified position as butler and grab the housekeeper in her parlor?"

"Since the housekeeper is caught calling out the name of the butler in her sleep it doesn't seem to be a real problem to me," he said in a teasing tone, rubbing his lips on hers, "Especially when you are the housekeeper, my darling."

"Oh Charles, I did not..." Elsie blushed violently, feeling her face burn and turned away from him enough so that she could look away. "It was not the kind of thing I could have prevented, but I hoped that you had not heard that..." She began to explain with her bossy patient tone; but Charles simply stopped her by putting a finger on her lips.

"I was curious to know what was happening in your dream. What I was doing in it." Charles's eyes spoke a thousand words at that moment and she felt a thrill run through her spine from end to end.

"Nothing that I really feel an urge to express in words," she closed the space between them again, so they could divide the same breath before their lips touched, and with a smile full of promise and meaning she said, "But maybe eventually I will show you."

THE END.

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><p><strong>NA: Not the end some of you expected, I know. But thank again for all the reviews, alerts and favs. They are gold to me and made me happy and encouraged to keep writing. And a speacial thank you for Onesimus for all the help ;D**


	7. Chapter 7

N/A: I wasn't planing write it but since Onesimus and beMMADfabulous asked me here it is! This is my very first whole M-rated scene, and since I know some of my readers this is strange (I'm embarassed, I could say! LOL). Mary Crazy T, you can be guilty for this one too (BAD INFLUENCE! all those Jim"s files, bathtub scenes and...), so is you Kouw! xD

**EPILOGUE**

"Are you sure you've never done anything like that before..?" Charles was breathing heavily when he dropped his back against the pillows piled together at the headboard of the small single bed, with one foot on the floor and his arms at odd angles.

A satisfied smile sprang to Elsie's lips as she rested her body on her pillow, with her belly against the mattress and elbows on the bed, supporting her chin in her hands. Her eyes had a distinct glow during several nights, especially during _those_ nights.

Charles pondered how hard the intimacy could have been between them, but found that Elsie, despite all the factors that had made him think the contrary, was very creative and willing on _those_ nights. He ran a hand across his forehead, wiping the sweat away from his temples and moving the loose locks of hair back in a languid gesture. He let his arm fall back on the mattress while the heat waves that overtook his body at the moment of climax began to dissipate.

"Stop it, woman." he said hoarsely.

"I'm not doing anything, dear." she chuckled, arching an eyebrow slightly. Charles's face ruddy and his chest slightly red, but without any regard to his possible discomfort, she knew.

"You're giving me _that_ look."

They both knew very well how Elsie was delighted every time _that_ happened. A sense of gratification took her and she smiled pleased with herself watching him surrender under her ministrations. She laughed openly when they faced each other, sinking her face in the pillow for a few moments to muffle the sound of her laughter before anyone could hear it.

"Where is your shyness when I need it?" He pretended to be dissatisfied, with an air of laughter, as he turned with care in the small bed to lie on his side.

"If you don't like how I feel close to you I can go back to my room." Her smile expanded further, as she swayed her legs in the air slowly from one side to the other. "I could not visit you at night anymore and not answer the door when you feel tempted to visit me if you like, Mr. Carson." She continued, with a slight tone of defiance. "Especially when you are interested in my dreams."

"And miss this view, Mrs. Hughes?" Charles held out his right arm to touch her face and run his hand through her disheveled hair. Its waves, always well taken care of, were now broken fangs and making it even more irresistible not to run his fingers through the brown mane. "I don't think that I can live too long without seeing you wearing the top of my pajamas. My eyes must have this vision from time to time." He confessed with a wry smile, letting his hand slip from her hair to her shoulders and finally reaching her arm, pulling her close. "Much less live without your dreams."

Elsie crawled languidly up the mattress to reach his face. Their bodies came close and even through the fabric of his pajamas she could feel how hot his flesh still was. She ran her small hands over his chest, until reaching his face and she smiled almost touching his lips with hers. "I thought you liked it better when I am not wearing it."

"Actually I like to take it off." Charles said before gluing his lips to hers.

They kissed slowly at first, pressing their lips together, feeling the closeness of their bodies, hugging each other warmly and affectionately, until Charles demanded entry with the tip of the tongue. With the kiss deepened he could taste himself in Elsie's mouth, making him loose a hoarse moan, muffled.

He could stay there, lying in that little bed forever with her in his arms, dressed or not.

Charles pulled her against his chest even more, feeling the curves of her body against his when he broke the kiss to slide his lips over her smooth skin, sliding down her chin and neck, nibbling her collarbone to undo the first button of the pajama's top and treading a slow and tortuous path with wet kisses down her chest.

Elsie shivered and arched her body with eyes closed when she felt Charles's hands fondle her breasts, massaging them slowly. A heavy sigh escaped her and she stretched her arms above her head to grab the wooden bars of the headboard so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Oh Charles ..." she muttered, breathless. Charles replaced one of his hands with his mouth provoking Elsie with the tip of his tongue, tracing slow circular movements on her nipple, nibbling on it occasionally to get from her new sighs. An eternity seemed to elapse and he turned his attention to the other breast, making her gasp even more under his touch.

Elsie arched her spine, taking care not to fall out of bed and giving him better access to other buttons on the pajama shirt while she wrapped his hip in a firm grip with her left leg. She could feel his excitement beginning to increase more and more against her.

"Are you already recovered, Mr. Carson?" she provoked him leaning toward him to speak close to his ear in a hoarse voice, catching his earlobe between her teeth, nipping it.

"For you, my love." he said looking up from her breasts to capture her lips in a kiss fierce and deep. Buttons were undone and he slipped the pajama shirt off her shoulders and arms to let it fall motionless on the floor beside the bed.

Charles felt the excitement coming from her, warm and wet, so attractive and irresistible that he refrained with difficulty not to be guided into it in a single lunge and lose himself in the intoxicating feeling that she caused in his body and in his mind.

He pressed Elsie further against him, feeling her nipples hard against his chest and stifling a satisfied groan into her mouth as they kissed.

"Oh..." she moaned as silently as she could when he finally touched her. With the tip of his fingers Charles ran softly through her folds, touching her with so much delicacy that it excited her even more than satisfied her. A new moan escaped Elsie and she buried her face in the crook of his neck, urging him to continue.

With his thumb he stroked her nub in slow circular movements, provocative, letting two fingers slide into her velvety moisture. Small hands clenched her fingers against the skin of his back, making small cuts with her nails, but Charles just felt more and more excited.

He increased the pace of his movements and the pressure exerted by his thumb, making Elsie tilt the head back, biting her lower lip hard as she tried in vain to contain her release.

"Let go Elsie."

"I want you."

"And you'll have me, love. Let go." he asked, brushing his lips over hers. They shared the same breath as Elsie's body shivered violently and squeezed his fingers in a wonderful sense of constriction that shortly he intended to feel with another part of his body.

Charles was delighted with the sight of Elsie, her face pink and her eyes closed, breathing hard through her parted lips while her hair slipped from the edge of the bed and she moaned in satisfaction.

Heat waves had overtaken her, growing from the point of contact with Charles's fingers and spreading through her body, making her small shape tense up as he continued with his experienced ministrations, then relax as she felt the pleasure take her altogether. Her eyes were cloudy and her ears overwhelmed with the rhythm of her accelerated pulse. Charles's hand gripped the side of her bottom firmly, burying his fingers in the soft skin with more force than necessary. The next day bruises would certainly appear, but that didn't matter. They kissed and she leaned heavily against his broad chest as the waves of pleasure slowly dissipated.

"I love you. Do you know that?" She whispered close to his lips, still panting.

"I do, love, and I love you."

Charles held her against his chest, resting his cheek against her hair while she was recovering.

Her breathing finally calmed down after several minutes, and Elsie regained control over her body, settling herself comfortably alongside the massive and warm body of Charles.

She could feel his excitement throbbing against her lower abdomen, demanding her attention even as he held her tenderly in his arms after another moment of uncontrollable desire, always patient, always giving himself entirely to her. Charles had the greatest concern for satisfying her, he could come later, if necessary. She looked up, placing soft kisses on his chin, feeling the hairs of his beard, which at that time was beginning to appear, jab her lips. Elsie let her hand slip between their warm and slightly sweaty bodies and touched him, enveloping him with the palm of her hand before moving it up and down slowly.

"Don't Elsie. I can wait. "Charles groaned with a hoarse voice and his eyes closed when he leaned his forehead against hers. Her hand was still stroking him slowly, exerting a gentle squeeze while moving.

"But I can't."

With one last kiss on the lips, Elsie let go of him and turned in the bed, leaning back against his broad chest. His arms were soon wrapped around her torso bring her body hard against his. She smiled in satisfaction, closing her eyes as she felt his excitement between her legs, touching her warm entrance. She sighed and moaned in approval.

"This is what you dreamed?" Charles asked in seductive voice next to her ear, nibbling her neck slowly. One of his hands cupped her breast, squeezing it gently while his other hand opened her legs and held it up in the air, giving him enough space to fit their hips comfortably together. "Was it like this, Elsie?" he insisted on the question, moving his hips slightly against her, touching her intimacy provocatively with his own.

"Yes Charles..." she could hardly speak, her excitement enormous. She leaned against him, feeling his firm grip keeping her safe and didn't think twice before letting one of her hands slide down her body and place his hardness at her entrance. "Love me, Charles, please." She begged.

He didn't need any more encouragement before pushing into her hot humidity that surrounded him gratefully. Low groans were heard, contained, when he began to slowly move into her. Slowly and rhythmic trusts were combined with his agile hands touching one of her breasts and stimulating her nub.

Both were lost in the intoxicating feeling. A constriction grew inside their chests, slowly, as Charles maintained the pace of his thrusts, making love to her in a lengthy and provocative way, almost torture. Their sweat mingled, wetting the sheets, running down their backs and foreheads.

Charles mouth found Elsie's shoulder and he sucked the spot hard, biting it.

"Faster." She asked breathless. "Please, love."

Charles paused for a moment, turning Elsie in his arms with strength to face him. "Wicked woman!"

With sweaty faces and breathless, they kissed eagerly and he pulled her to himself, turning to lie on his back in the bed with her on top of him. Charles put his hand on the back of her neck and drew her closer as their bodies connected again and he wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her close against him, thrusting hard and quick inside of her, as deep as was possible.

The bed creaked dangerously, pounding rhythmically on the wall. At least Thomas's room was empty now. Elsie at the sheets until they came off the bed and buried her face in the crook of his neck, muffling her moans against his skin. Within minutes, they both were on the verge of mutual satisfaction, breathless and tired.

Charles pressed her against him, squeezing her bottom with his large hands as she shivered hard against his chest. He felt her body tighten around him as pleasure consumed her and continued thrusting quickly until he could no longer contain himself. His satisfaction came with a hoarse groan, next to her ear and his legs fell over the mattress.

Their bodies were briefly tense and then faint. Elsie slipped onto the bed, keeping her body cuddled next to Charles as they tried to recover their breath.

"I love your dreams, darling" he said, putting his hand on her hips.

"Me too."


End file.
